Santa Claus, the Elves and the FBI
by Ms.GrahamCracker
Summary: A policewoman takes a statement on Christmas Eve.


**Disclaimer; Don't own them yet, but they are on my Christmas list. Until then I am only pretending and therefore no money is being exchanged and no infringement is intended.**

**No warnings and no spoilers.**

**All original characters (they are the ones you don't recognize) are mine and were created solely for this story.**

**Summary; A policewoman takes a statement on Christmas Eve.**

**Santa Claus, the Elves and the FBI**

LAPD officer Gail Barrett walked through the hallway of the busy emergency room at UCLAMedical Center, amazed at the activity there on Christmas Eve. _Guess that whole peace on earth,_ _good will towards men thing doesn't apply in Los Angeles_, she thought to herself.

She was close to the end of her shift and she was looking forward to going home. Her husband, Joe, would be getting the girls ready for bed, and if this didn't take too long, she would be home in time to help set the cookies and milk out for Santa Claus.

Nearly an hour earlier, Barrett and her partner, Tony Putman, had responded to the scene of a 911 reported assault. They were the second unit to respond and when they arrived, the suspect was already in cuffs, leaning against a cruiser, and being read his rights. They were told there were two victims and they were already in transport to UCLA. They were both surprised to see FBI agent Don Eppes and his team there. From the looks of them, Gail wondered if they were there in an official capacity. She and Tony had worked a few cases earlier this year with the crack FBI team and they found them all to be professional and easy to work with. But, professional didn't fit their description tonight.

Before she could talk to any of them, the officer in charge sent her and Putman to the hospital to take the victim's statements. There was one female and one male victim. By mutual agreement, Tony took the male. That left Gail maneuvering her way through the crowded emergency area, towards exam room number 12.

At the door, Gail paused. An assault like this, on Christmas Eve, would be traumatic enough, but the OIC told them the victim's young son had also been there. Barrett knew he wasn't the male victim Tony was interviewing. A child was always handled by Children's Services.

What a wonderful way to spend Christmas Eve, she mused.

Gail took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the statement she was about to take. She pushed the door open and stuck her head in. "Eve Hanson?" she asked.

The small woman sitting in the hospital bed looked up, then winced in pain at the movement. Her head was partially wrapped in white gauze with several small tufts of auburn hair sticking out from underneath. The left side of her face was swollen and bruised. Gail knew it would look worse tomorrow. She quickly studied the assault victim, her trained eye seeing what she had seen before in so many other assault cases. The woman couldn't weigh more than 110 pounds. Gail had seen the suspect at the scene. He clearly outweighed Eve by more than a hundred pounds. What was it about men like that who used their strength against someone so defenseless? Did it make them feel more like a man? Gail shook her head. She could never understand that.

Eve Hanson looked at the policewoman and leaned forward eagerly in the bed. "Please." she said, earnestly. "My son. No one will tell me where he is."

Gail nodded and stepped closer to the bed. She was a mother too, and she could identify with the woman's anguish. "I'm sure he is alright. I promise you, I will personally find out." She moved further into the room. "My name is Officer Gail Barrett. I'm with the Los Angeles Police Department. I'm here to take your statement about what happened tonight."

Eve swallowed, the dark bruises on her throat moving with the movement. "I don't know. My head hurts. Everything is still pretty fuzzy."

Officer Barrett nodded. "I understand. I spoke with the doctor and he told me you have a mild concussion. That can muddle anyone's thoughts. And I'm sure you're still experiencing some degree of shock. But this is only a preliminary statement. Just something the DA can work with to draw up charges. You'll have an opportunity to change anything before you sign it. We find, however, that the facts are pretty accurate the sooner you talk after the incident."

Eve took a deep breath. She knew she would only be delaying the inevitable. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Alright, I'll try. But, then I want to see my son."

Gail took a small notebook and pen from her pocket and sat in the vinyl chair beside the bed. "For the record, please state your name."

"Legal name I guess would still be Eve Hanson. But I have been using my maiden name, Christman."

Gail looked up. "Eve Christman?"

The woman nodded gingerly. "Yeah, it's my birthday. My parents weren't overly religious, but they did have a unique sense of humor."

Gail set her jaw. Better and better. Her birthday, Christmas Eve, her son missing. And then, Officer Barrett threw one more log on the fire. "We understand you know your attacker."

Eve nodded slowly. "My husband, Curtis Hanson."

Gail struggled to remain passive. She hated this. "Tell me about him. Has he always been abusive?"

The woman nodded, casting her eyes down towards her hands that clenched the sheets in front of her."I finally got the nerve to leave him three weeks ago. I had saved a little money. Enough for Taylor and I to take a bus to LA. I thought it would be harder for him to find us here. I guess I was wrong."

"Where are you from?"

"Colorado Springs."

"Did you come to LA alone? Do you have a job? Do you have any means to support yourself and your son?" Woah,was this Officer Barrett of the LAPD asking or Momma Barrett, Gail wondered.

The woman nodded. "We had a plan. My cousin, Becky and I. She lives in St. Louis and works at the hospital there. She's a nurse. She was going to come out here and we were going to share an apartment, and she was going to get a job at one of the hospitals out here."

"Was?"

Eve looked away, then answered in a low voice, dripping with despair. "When I first got to Los Angeles, I called her. She had been in a car accident somewhere in Texas and wouldn't be able to drive for a while."

"So, you and your son have been living on the streets for, what, three weeks?"

"We've been moving from one shelter to another. Trying to stay on the move, so Curtis couldn't find us. They were suppose to have a Christmas party at that shelter tonight and I thought Taylor would enjoy it.I just wanted to give him that, you know." The fact that she had nothing for her son on Christmas remained unspoken, but Gail heard it as if the woman had shouted it out loud.

"Tell me what happened tonight." Gail said, steering her away from the emotional subject. "Anything you can remember, no matter how unimportant it may seem, or how fuzzy the memory. Don't leave anything out."

Eve nodded and began. "One of the shelter volunteers had just given Taylor a plate of milk and cookies. She told us Santa Claus would be there soon. Taylor was so excited, but that's when I saw Curtis in the doorway. He hadn't seen us yet, so I grabbed Taylor and we ran out the back door. I ran into the alley. I can't believe I did it, but I found a dumpster and I put my son in there. I told him to be quiet. It's sad, isn't it, that a two year old knew he had to be quiet. Knew he had to hide from his own daddy."

Gail swallowed hard. She pictured her two daughters at home with Joe; warm, safe, well fed.

Eve's voice became hard. "I tried to run in the opposite direction, but he found me. I screamed, but he dragged me back into the alley and ... then he started hitting me. He threw me up against the brick wall and I hit my head pretty hard. I actually saw stars, like they do in the cartoons."

"What happened then?"

Eve's eyes took on a glassy appearance. She spoke quietly, almost trance-like. "I felt his hands around my throat. He was squeezing so hard. I couldn't breath. I tried to pull his hands away, but. . . I couldn't. Everything was turning gray and then there were spots – white spots – in my eyes. It hurt so much." She stopped and looked at the policewoman. "You know how they say, you're life passes before your eyes? Well, that didn't happen. It wasn't my life. It was Taylor's. He's only two, you know, and he never had a decent house to live in, or a daddy that went to work or a mommy who stayed home and baked cookies for him. And now, now he was going to grow up knowing his daddy killed his mommy on Christmas Eve. That's just not right, is it?"

Gail shifted in the chair. No, dammit, it wasn't right. But it happened all too often.

"What happened? How did you get away?"

Eve gave a little laugh. "I didn't think I did. I was sure he killed me. For a period of time, everything was black; there was nothing, no light or sound or anything. Then gradually I became aware of a touch, and a voice and I knew someone was holding me, talking to me. Someone was wiping the tears from my face and telling me it was going to be alright. Whoever it was had such a kind voice, I wanted to believe him."

She gave a nervous laugh and looked at Gail. "You said everything, right? No matter what?"

Gail nodded.

"I opened my eyes and that's when I realized I knew who was holding me. It was . . . Santa Claus. And I remember thinking, if you die on Christmas Eve, do you get Santa Claus instead of an angel?"

"It was all so surreal. Santa was talking on his cell phone. I don't think it was 911. It sounded too personal. He was telling someone, Donnie, maybe, where we were and to hurry. I remember thinking, it's too late for me. I'm already dead."

"But, I saw Curtis, then, and I knew I was still alive. He was fighting with another man." She hesitated, and her expression said she was unsure about saying something, but, at an encouraging nod from Gail, she continued. "I know now, they were two men in costumes but I was terrified and kind of dizzy from hitting my head and alland what I _**saw**_ was Santa Claus holding me while Curtis fought with a curly haired elf."

_A curly haired elf?_

On one of the cases they worked with Eppes and his team, they had utilized the talents of his younger brother, Charlie. He had curly hair, and the presence of Eppes and his team at the crime scene could mean Charlie was there as well. Could he have been the male victim?

Eve continued. "It wasn't much of a fight. Curtis outweighs him by at least 50 pounds. But what he lacked in weight, he made up for in . . . there's a word. I can't think of . . . you know, he kept coming back."

"Tenacity?" Gail offered, even though they were not suppose to put words in the victim's mouths.

Eve nodded. "That's it. He was swinging his fists at Curtis, but Curtis was taller and he works out, so his fists weren't doing much damage. It was easy for Curtis to just push him backwards. The elf stumbled a little, but like I said, he went right back, kind of barreling into Curtis with his head down and his arms swinging. They scuffled a bit, then Curtis hit him once, in the face, and that stopped him. He went down hard and Curtis bent over and grabbed his shirt, dragging him up again. I was so afraid Curtis was going to hurt him, but then I noticed the elf had something in his hand. He swung his hand around fast as Curtis pulled him up and he hit him real hard in the side of his face with his leather belt of jingle bells."

Gail Barrett smiled and cleared her throat. She recalled the crime scene, in the alley, when she and Tony had first arrived. The suspect, cuffed and surly, had looked up at her as they approached. She had noticed the strange marks on the side of his face. She had never seen those particular markings anywhere before and was curious what could have caused them. _Jingle bells_. She coughed slightly, to hide the chuckle.

"Curtis was real mad," Eve continued, " and he swung at him again, but the little guy jumped aside real fast and Curtis missed. He kind of lost his balance and he tried to charge ahead again, but I think he moved too fast and tripped over the end of the elf's pointy shoes and fell down."

"While Curtis was getting up again, Santa called to the elf . . ." she paused, her eyes suddenly sharp with a memory. "Charlie. That's it. He called him Charlie . . . and he slid his big red bag over to him. By the time Curtis got to his feet Charlie was standing in front of him holding Santa's bag, you know, filled with presents. He swung it around hard and hit Curtis in the chest with it and knocked him backwards."

Eve's eyes were dark as she remembered. "I have never seen Curtis so angry before, not even at me. He jumped up and grabbed Charlie by his arm and hit him twice in the face. Then he grabbed him around the throat and started choking him. Santa shifted me, so I could lay against the wall and ran over to them. He tried to help Charlie but Curtis was too far gone and he wouldn't let go."

Eve paused. She reached for the small plastic cup of water on the stand beside the bed and drank from it, her hands trembling slightly.

Gail settled back in her seat, knowing the woman needed a small break. She remembered Charlie Eppes and found herself hoping the next part of Eve's narrative would not spell bad tidings for the Eppes family. When Eve replaced the glass after another drink, Gail pressed her, "What happened then?"

Eve shook her head. "I... everything was so...I was so scared. I think I passed out for a minute or two. Then suddenly, there was a lot of noise and a lot yelling and I opened my eyes and..."

"Yes?"

"There were more elves. Three or four, and they were dressed the same as Charlie. I thought elves were suppose to be kind of small, but these guys were all large and well built. The three biggest charged towards Santa, Charlie and Curtis. One of them – he had dark eyes and short dark hair, got there first. He wasn't as tall as Curtis, but he had more muscle – in fact, his elf suit and red and green pants kind of bulged in a few places. Anyway, he pulled Santa away, then he slammed his fist into Curtis' face. He kept doing that, again and again, until Curtis finally let go of Charlie's neck. Curtis turned fast and hit the dark haired man and he kind of stumbled backwards . One of the other elves, he had blond hair, I think, grabbed Charlie when Curtis let him go and practically carried him away. The dark haired elf never fell down and he charged at Curtis again, ducked another punch, and twisted Curtis' arm around his back. Then he and the bald headed one..."

Gail couldn't help herself. "Bald headed one?"

"Yeah," Eve wiggled her fingers in the space just above her bandaged head. "His little pointy hat had fallen off during the fight." Sinclair, Gail thought. She was having a hard time keeping her professionalism in it's place. "They threw Curtis to the ground and he put his knee into the space between Curtis' shoulder blades, and his hands on the back of his head and kept him there until the police arrived."

Gail finished writing. "Is there anything else?"

"Santa Claus and the dark haired man went to Charlie and I watched them for a minute. They seemed close. But then, a woman, also dressed like an elf, came into the alley and she was holding Taylor and nothing else mattered. The paramedics arrived soon after that and we were brought here, but I haven't seen Taylor since then. Please."

Just then the door opened and a white coated doctor walked in, followed by a nurse. She handed him a chart, and after setting a pair of glasses on his nose, he glanced at it, reading quickly through the information that had been entered during Eve's short stay. He made a few additional notes, then handed it back to the nurse. He looked at Eve. "You're tests have all come back within acceptable ranges, although I am concerned about your body's obvious lack of nourishment. Have you been eating regularly?" He pressed on, not waiting for a response. "You need some serious rest and a few hearty meals. There is also the matter of your injuries. Bruises and contusions. They'll heal. You also have a mild concussion. We usually like to keep someone with a concussion overnight for observation, but, since it is Christmas Eve, and you have a place to go," he stopped and looked at her over the top of his glasses. "You do have a place to go, don't you?"

Gail noticed that Eve's eyes avoided direct contact with the doctor. "Yes." Eve lied. Gail remained silent, knowing Taylor would spend Christmas Eve in a foster home with strangers if Eve didn't have somewhere to go. She couldn't let that happen.

"Alright. The nurse will get your paperwork together and you can leave when you're ready." He stopped at the door and looked back at the two women. "Merry Christmas." he said, not without feeling and a last sympathetic look at Eve, then walked out and closed the door behind him.

Gail Barrett was finished with the victim's statement, and could also leave, but she intended to fulfill her promise to the distraught woman and find out about her son.

Just then, however, the door opened again and three men and a woman entered the room. Gail recognized Don Eppes, his brother Charlie and Megan Reeves. They were still dressed in the red and green pants, but all of them now had a jacket over the elf tunic, and there was not one elf hat between them. Don was holding a small boy, who was resting his head on the man's shoulder, his right thumb planted firmly in his mouth. His sleepy eyes lit up when they saw Eve, and he squirmed in the man's arms, stretching his arms forward towards her. "Mommy!"

They crossed the room quickly and Don gently lowered him to the bed. "Take it easy, buddy. Mommy's a little sore." he cautioned. She pulled him against her and breathed in his wonderful little boy smell. She choked back a sob and drew him closer, afraid to let go.

She eyed the three men. Santa had lost his beard, his hat and the padding under his jacket. The familiar red and white suit hung loosely on his body. Without the white fur and fake beard that covered everything but his eyes, she saw that he had a kind and friendly face.

Eve looked at the smaller man next to him. She felt a twinge of guilt as she noticed the trio of butterfly bandages above his left eye and the bruised cheekbone. His lower lip was cut and swollen, and the finger shaped bruises on his neck matched hers, but he was smiling as he watched her and Taylor.

The other man had taken a few steps back from her beside. He stood quietly, his dark eyes filled with compassion.

Santa moved forward towards her and spoke. "We were so happy to hear that you are going to be alright. No one... no one deserves that. But, he will never be able to hurt you or your son, again. Donnie will make sure of that." He smiled then continued. "I'm Alan Eppes. These are my sons, Don and Charlie. And this is our friend, Megan Reeves."

Eve smiled at the man, but, she shook her head and her eyes were dull with despair. "Curtis has a good friend on the police force back home. He always gets away with it."

The man identified as Don looked at her, his jaw set and hard, but a small twinkle flickered in his eyes. "Well, I don't know where back home is, but here in Los Angeles, assault on a federal officer is not taken lightly." He rubbed his jaw and winked at her.

Eve returned his gaze, stunned. "You?"

"FBI." he answered. " And Charlie, there, consults for us sometimes. That's attempted murder of a federal consultant, from where I stand. No," he shook his head, "Curtis Hanson's not going to be bothering you again."

Her hand flew to her mouth and Eve's shoulders shook with the sobs she had been holding in. She leaned forward slightly, resting her forehead on her son's and cried. Don put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, reassuringly. She looked up at this touch.

"I'll never be able to thank you, all of you. And ... there were others?"

"Yeah, Colby and David. They're wrapping up the paperwork at the scene. They'll be around a little later."

Eve took a deep breath. "The doctor says I don't have to stay here tonight, and I hate to ask you for anything else, but I was wondering if one of you could drive Taylor and I back to the shelter."

Alan stepped forward quickly, shaking his head. "Oh, no, dear. The shelter is filled up by now. All of them are. Especially tonight."

She nodded her head slowly. "I was afraid of that. That's why we tried to get there early. Maybe you know of a cheap hotel. Very cheap." Her lip quivered slightly, knowing she didn't even have enough money for that.

As Alan shook his head again, Don spoke up. "We were kind of hoping you and Taylor would come spend Christmas Eve with us, at our house. Well, actually, Charlie's house."

Charlie nodded and flashed a brilliant smile the cut lip couldn't dim. "We have plenty of room. Dad has enough food prepared for two armies. And there's a big Christmas tree and cookies and David and Colby will be there with some of our other friends. Maybe we can get Don to play the piano, and we'll all sing carols. It'll be fun. The probabilities are substantially greater that you and Taylor will enjoy yourself more with us than in a motel room alone. Please."

She closed her eyes against a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time

Megan stepped beside the bed and took the young woman's hand in hers. She spoke softly. "There will be something else at Charlie's house tonight, too. Something I don't think you have had for a while." Megan glanced at Alan, then let her eyes travel from Don to Charlie. She turned back to Eve and in a way only two women can communicate, her eyes spoke of loneliness and fear. "There's a certain warmth there, at Charlie's. It's the kind of inner warmth that comes from friendship: from feeling safe and wanted and loved. Everyone who enters that house feels it. I think you and your little boy need that tonight. Let them help you."

Eve looked at the Eppes men. Alan's gentle eyes – no, fatherly eyes, promised understanding and acceptance, not condemnation or judgment. Beside him, Don stood straight. He was looking at Megan, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his expression soft and grateful. And Charlie was still smiling, his large eyes dancing between his family and Eve. She was suddenly struck with how childlike he was in his demeanor. Open and naïve. Nothing like the man who singlehandedly fought off Curtis with nothing but his wits, a bag of toys, and some jingle bells.

She smiled and nodded her head. "Thank you." she panned her gaze around the room, lingering for a few seconds on each of the men. "I think Taylor would love it." She settled her eyes on Megan. "And you're right. We do need it."

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Don and Gail walked into the hallway. "You get everything you need?" he asked, nodding towards the tablet in her hand.

"Yep. That and more." she said with a teasing grin. He frowned, "What?"

She opened the tablet, flipped a few pages over, and read out loud; "...an elf...with more muscle than Curtis. In fact, his elf suit and tight red and green pants bulged in a few places."

Don smiled, uncomfortably, but his eyes twinkled and he cocked his head to the side and scratched his cheek. "Yeah, well, you know, it Christmas."

"But, tights elf pants, Eppes? No wonder you weren't packing. No place to put it."

"What do you want from me? Dad volunteers at that shelter through the year and we were just helping him pass out the presents to the kids, you know. Besides, elf costumes are not as easy to come by as you think this time of year. We took what we could get, even if it was a size too small. And," his eyes twinkled as he added, " we didn't need to pack, we were all off duty."

"No," she laughed, "you were on elf duty. Who needs guns when you have jingle bells?"

Don laughed, too, then asked, "Are you and Tony done for the night, now?"

"Yeah. He already headed back to the station with another unit. I'm heading home. Joe will be wondering where I am."

Don smiled, reached out and touched her hand lightly, in a friendly gesture. "Merry Christmas, Gail. Give my best to Joe and the girls." Then he added. " Be safe."

"You too, Eppes."

As she left the hospital, she glanced at her watch. She still had time to help tuck the girls in bed after the traditional reading of "'Twas A Night Before Christmas." Then, later, after the presents were arranged under the tree, she would sit with Joe, and as they ate the milk and cookies, she would tell him about a certain Jewish Santa Claus, a feisty curly haired elf, and four big bad FBI agents in red and green pants and little pointy hats with jingle bells.

As she reached her car, she stopped and looked around her. The air was brisk and clear. She knew there were stars out tonight, but, as always, the glare from the inner city drowned them out.

She took a deep breath in. Everyday, she and her fellow members of the LAPD and other law enforcement saw the heartbreak of life on the streets. The homeless and the hopeless. During the holidays, the media and charities were able to bring it into the limelight, and fill their donation cups and ratings. But she knew, and Tony knew and Don Eppes and his team knew, the homeless were there all year long, not just through the holidays.

Los Angeles was a beautiful city, rich in history and art, blessed with sunshine most of the year and brimming with good people. It could also be a harsh city, teaming with gangs and crime and an increasing number of homeless. But, not necessarily hopeless. Not as long as there were people like the Eppes. She was suddenly filled with a giddy feeling and she lifted her head and shouted into the night sky, "Merry Christmas, LA!"

She slid into the drivers seat and started the engine. As she pulled out of the hospital parking lot she reached over and turned the radio on. She laughed out loud when the music started and as she headed for the freeway that would take her home, she sang along loudly with the popular holiday song; "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way."

The end

A/N; Happy and safe holiday wishes to all of you.


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